


Thinking of You

by Antarctica_or_bust



Series: Jukebox Musical [2]
Category: Leverage
Genre: Angst, Coda, Eliot won't admit he has feelings, Eliot's also in denial, F/M, M/M, Minor Violence, Non-Explicit Sex, Pining, Poignant, Post S1E13 The Second David Job, So he kills people instead, Weird use of 2nd person, Weirdness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-18
Updated: 2014-07-18
Packaged: 2018-02-09 11:22:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1981047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Antarctica_or_bust/pseuds/Antarctica_or_bust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eliot isn't used to being alone anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thinking of You

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is something of an experiment, partially inspired by [this fic.](http://jendavis.livejournal.com/111018.html)

Wake up. Get dressed. Go for a run. Start making breakfast. Think of Parker. Throw your knife at the wall.  
  
Wake up. Get dressed. Go for a run. Spend the day doing nothing. Stop by a bar that night. Order whiskey. It's Nate's favorite. Punch out half the clientele.  
  
Wake up. Get dressed. Go for a run. Take a shower. Jack off. Try to keep your mind blank and fail miserably. Come to the memory of Hardison's mouth around a bottle. Crack the tiles on your wall.  
  
Wake up. Get dressed. Go for a run. Your phone rings. It's an offer. You don't need the money but you take it anyway. Retrieve three gold bars and a hostage. Leave a trail of bodies in your wake. Your employer tries to double-cross you. Add one to the body count.  
  
Wake up. Get dressed. Go for a run. Ice your ribs and splint your finger. Dream of Moreau that night.  
  
Wake up. Get dressed. Go for a run. Buy a case of orange soda at the Corner Mart. Don't drink it because you hate that stuff. Cook something fancy to clear your head. Forget that you're not feeding five. Eat beef paprikas for a week.  
  
Wake up. Get dressed. Go for a run. Fly to Paris. Run into a colleague at the park. Snap his arm before he can shoot you in revenge for ‘05. Steal his wallet. Think of Parker. Tase the bastard just because.  
  
Wake up. Get dressed. Don't run because it's Paris. Get jumped by some muggers and kick their ass instead. Pass by a theater. Think of Sophie. Shudder uncontrollably.  
  
Wake up. Get dressed. Remember that you hate France more than anything. Imagine Parker jumping off the Eiffel Tower. Catch yourself smiling.  
  
Wake up. Get dressed. Go for a run. Catch the train to England even though you despise the Underground. Meet a contact. Refuse the job at first. But he’s desperate and you can’t stand the desperate ones.  
  
Wake up. Get dressed. Go for a run. Tell yourself that you're not lonely and a team only slows you down. Get drunk that evening. Take home a stranger. Call him Hardison.  
  
Wake up. Get dressed. Curse your damn hangover. Dial three digits of Alec's number before you throw your phone at the wall. Remind yourself to call him Hardison.  
  
Wake up. Get dressed. Go for a run. Turn on the news. Someone stole the Empress Diamond from the Bank of England. Wonder how Parker is doing now.  
  
Wake up. Get dressed. Go for a run. Admit you're lonely. Hate yourself for it. Fly south to Istanbul.  
  
Wake up. Get dressed. Go for a run. Stop by a mosque to ask forgiveness even though you know that it's far too late for you. Prove it by strangling the Imam. Return his daughter's bones to the man who hired you.  
  
Wake up. Get dressed. Go for a run. Scowl at the thermometer on the wall. Cook all morning. Tell yourself it's just coincidence that you're making your team's favorite dishes. They're not your team anymore.  
  
Wake up. Get dressed. Go for a run. Pretend that you didn't dream about betrayal and watching as your _former_ teammates were gunned down one by one. Don't worry about your _former_ friends being killed without you there to protect them. Don't worry about those idiots. Don't wor- Google their usual crimes until you're sure that everyone's all right.  
  
Wake up. Get dressed. Go for a run. Fly to Belgium. Buy the most expensive chocolate that you can find. Mail the package to Parker's last known address. Curse yourself for a damn fool.  
  
Wake up. Get dressed. Go for a run. Practice Flemish with your waitress. Fuck her behind the bar and say the right name this time.  
  
Wake up. Jerk off to the thought of dark skin spread over satin and tight heat around your cock. Tell yourself it doesn't matter because you won't see him again. Plus Hardison was busy drooling after Parker and you ain't touching that.  
  
Wake up. Get dressed. Go for a run. Walk into the wrong cafe. Get threatened by Belgian mobsters. Laugh until it hurts.  
  
Wake up. Get dressed. Go for a run. Get a call from those same mobsters. They want you to steal their Bible back. Bust some heads, win a car race, and do exactly that.  
  
Wake up. Get dressed. Go for a run. Stop by Café Bleu for a croissant. Miss Interpol’s raid on your hotel while you're eating. It's one damn good croissant. Sterling threatens to detain you when you steal a phone to call him, but your passport's in your pocket so you don't really give a damn. Get on a plane while he's still searching du Midi Boulevard.  
  
You don't sleep in public places. Land in Philly. Go for a run. Turn on the news when you get back. Someone hacked the billboards in Times Square to spell out, “I miss you.” Get really, really drunk.  
  
No. Just no. Fuck your life.  
  
Wake up. Get dressed. Go for a run. Get a call from an old buddy. Fly back out to Pakistan.  
  
Wake up. Get dressed. Go for a run. Stop a war before it starts, then start another one. Feel guilty. Dream of blood. No more sleep that night.  
  
Give in to temptation and dial Hardison. Hang up when he answers without saying anything. Get dressed. Go for a run. Try not to think about who you're killing every time bones snap beneath your hands.  
  
Stop sleeping for a week. Write a hundred letters. Only send the last. “Damn it, Hardison,” on a postcard mailed to a PO Box. You could have sent it to his Nana but you didn’t want to deal with the fallout that would cause. Pass out from exhaustion in the middle of a fight.  
  
Wake up. Get dressed. Threaten the doctors until they release you from the field hospital. Go for a run. Check your drop box. There’s a package. Sophie sent you tickets to her play. It's in a week and everyone's invited. You get on a plane that day.  
  
Fly back to the states and lay low for a while. Bust some heads for fun. Pretend that you're not nervous about Sophie's opening.  
  
Wake up. Get dressed. Go for a run. Show up ten minutes before the show’s supposed to start. See your _former_ teammates. Feel like someone punched you in the gut. The play is awful. Sophie is awful, even worse than you remember, but somehow you don’t care. You can endure this torture because your team is there. Hardison wants to get everyone back together. You resist, of course. Hardison is very persuasive. Sleep peacefully for the first time in a year.  
  
  
 _End_


End file.
